Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Goldenrod

there are many perks to working at a Retirement Community...including the endless compliments i receive such as good ol Larry-- every morning he walks up to my desk and says, "hey good lookin whatchya got cookin?" and Clara: "my what wonderful red stockings you're wearing today...you're such a fashion plate." Col. Findlay: "you are the best dressed gal around this place." or even Mrs. Jolley, "hey! are you stupid?! you need a bobbi pin to pull your damn hair back" (she's not so jolly really). i love them.

but the thing i hate is lunch. work gives us one free meal each day. but it is truly appalling. so i bring my cheese sandwich with mustard and just a touch of mayonaise (just kidding. i use like half the jar on one sandwich. i get that from my papa) and a piece of fruit (that i usually don't get around to eating) and cookies. sometimes if i'm feelin particularly crazy, i'll pop on down to the Bell or JITB (taco bell, jack in the box). but i never eat lunch in the employee breakroom. it's worse than a high school cafeteria. but instead of like The Jock Table or The Band Nerd Table (sorry Russ)....it's The Nurse Table and The Maintenence Table. i walk in there and i don't belong. obviously if there was a Popular Table that's where i would be, but there isn't one. so i eat lunch in the library precisely the exact time Daphne comes in with her walker to read The Wall Street Journal. Daphe has a loose bhole and farts constantly. and you can't help but laugh. but it's the silent, shoulder-shaking kind of laugh that turns your face red. so i eat lunch in the resident library and read the comics by myself while Daphne is farting the whole time.

anyway, i love the people who live here. they're fabulous.

but do you know what happens when they die? i have to type and print out their death notices. as a young girl, i remember coming home with permission slips or notes for my mom, and they were always printed out on different colored paper: lavander, sunshine yellow, light pink, and my personal favorite: Goldenrod. Goldenrod meant a class halloween party, or a field trip to the seattle science center. Goldrenrod was awesome.

not anymore my friends (i always said "my friends" before lame old ass mccain ever did by the way). I learned on my very first day at work that Goldenrod means Death. every death notice we print out is on Goldenrod. Goldenrod is ruined. It doesn't mean parties and fieldtrips anymore. so don't send me anything printed on Goldenrod. it only makes me miss Jerry. he was my favorite. one time he came down to my desk with his pants around his ankles. "dammit i can't figure out why my pants are so loose." he forgot to button and zip them. so i pulled his pants back up and fastened them for him. and he winked at me while i was zipping the fly. he was the best.

4 comments:

Okay, this one brought tears to my eyes as Papa used to work at Panorama City and we got to know so many folks just like the ones you love. It made me feel really SPAINGS, which was the word I had to type in. Weird -- what is spaings? Sounds like a fried piece of kitty-cat you might buy on the streets of Taiwan.